Uncategorized – Page 2 – Solo Female Cycling Around The World

Perk My Pedal, The World’s Greatest Men

On my, oh la la, look at him. At times, while pedaling the world there is a shortage of snow peaked mountains and cascading rivers on which to drool. Therefore, I find my attention drifts with a girlish like grin towards the men that surround me as I cycle the world. After all, I never could stay away from the boys.

New Zealand is as sexy a destination as any to venture by bicycle. Due to it’s proximity to Antarctica, one can enjoy pedaling next to tepid snowy mountains one day and delicious warm sandy beaches the next. But it is the men that drew my heart to this country of islands. They are outdoorsy by nature, honest by design and everyone seems to head out for a weekend bicycle ride. The men are nice on the eyes and always up for a chat. These guys are about as appealing and cute as it gets.

The Tibetan Region, Western China My current location, in fact, I am writing this from my tent waiting out the freezing rain as the snow accumulates around me on the surrounding Himalaya Mountains. Hot it is not right now but the people here in the Tibet region of Western China are as warm and beautiful as people get. Smiley, welcoming, caring and kind, these folks will warm your heart faster than a hug. At least a dozen men today have stopped to check on me, give me water, food, or offer me tea, a ride if I wanted and a Tashi Delai, which means good luck and good wishes.

On shear heart size and energy alone, the people here will certainly perk your pedal. Long haired men, colorfully adorned and the occasional nomadic herdsmen to bout, no joke, I have always had a thing for nomadic men that smell like horses, oh la la the smell of a nomad. Now that’s my kind of company.

Mongolia. I do believe that I have more testosterone than a lot of the men in Asia. I have never been the tallest kid in the class. However, I tower over many Asian men in size and clearly have minimal issues with getting my hands dirty. Now with that said, venture across any land border into Mongolia, my favorite country and it is a whole different world of Asian oh la la. The men flirt, are tall and strong in stature and joke around without end. Life in Mongolia gets sexier by the mile, nomadic by nature, with an instant connection to a fellow traveler. The men are self sufficient, jack of all trades, playful, kind and a whole lot of fun. I do believe I love Mongolia and it’s joyous men.

What, where, who perks your pedal? Let’s hear it with a comment below.

Is This Skalatitude Or Shangri-La?

As the sun dips behind the mountains in the Yunnan province of western China, the alluring clouds of the afternoon majestic light propel me frontward. A splendid day of pedaling over the charmed mountains down to the alluring Yangtze River and my first wide eyed glance at spacious snow capped mountains burst my vision with energetic exhilaration.

An enchanted spirited region at every turn, Pandemic the Magic Bicycle, an unforgettable companion and another beloved cycling experience embedded into memory. The rushing river echoes from the banks, ricochets from the surrounding hills and creates a harmonic percussion, a warm auditory delight that sparkles within my colossal beaming smile. The 5400m snow topped mountains stand watch as the afternoon begins to cool. The chilly air, darkening clouds and a 20 minute near bruising hail storm is quickly forgotten as Tibetan prayer flags flap in the breeze.

Please come to my Tibetan home for some butter tea? I like bicycle. A beautiful woman with a heart the size of the hills has adopted me and would like to warm me up. As we sit crossed legged by the rustic oven fire, Ms. Zhe Zhu Zhuo Ma and her son prepare butter tea. My new friend has taught herself English because while in the city she ate some western pizza and discovered that she loves pizza. She would like to turn her Tibetan home into a pizza restaurant some day. Her husband bought her a pizza maker/flat waffle iron and she now makes her Tibetan bread on her “pizza machine”. As I warm my tummy with butter tea which is closer in consistency to soup then tea, I enjoy a fire cooked meal of cabbage and Tibetan bread made on a pizza machine. My new friend tells me that the mountain, I have been grinning at all day is a very special mountain for the Tibetan people; it is a place of pilgrimage for many and mentioned in the seventh section of the Tibetan spiritual book.

4 pot traditional cook stove, one each for water, milk, yak butter and tea

As the fire cools, the afternoon slips by and with my belly full of butter tea; I am saddened to say good-bye. I tuck my departing gift, a piece of wolf fur into my pocket and continue to pedal the final 30km (about 19miles) through the chilly air into the city of Shangri-La. The pelting hail returns as I smile with gratitude and reminisce of a wonderful afternoon of Tibetan hospitality. I ponder whether this is Skalatitude or Shangri-La as I arrive into the town amidst smiles and warm welcomes to warm up with more butter tea and a stroll through the cobblestone streets of Shangri-La.

Top 3 Things To Do On A Rest Day…Eat, Sleep, Pole Dance!

3. Eat, Eat, Eat After 2 breakfasts, 3 lunches, one ice cream cone, 3 bananas , 1 apple, I peer down at my wooden leg , begin to ponder how similar my diet is to that of a pregnant obese lady and wonder what I might find to eat for dinner.

We all know that daily exercise does require calories and muscle recovery does require protein but at times on a rest day I wonder exactly how someone who weighs 49kilos (108 pounds) can possibly consume her weight in food in one day.

Pig Heads…could I ever be that hungry?

2. Sleep. I met Nico a French cyclist who has been bicycle touring for two years. Today is actually his two year anniversary and we had ice cream together to celebrate. Nico was laughing because he told me that while on a rest day he often goes to sleep at 2pm and wakes up the next morning, full of smiles and energy to continue his bicycle tour. I personally am a huge fan of the nap. Wake up, eat breakfast and while fully fed go back to bed for another power snooze.

Two Cyclists Catch A Quick Nap On a Slow Boat Near China

1. Take A Pole Dancing Lesson. Why does beer taste so good in foreign lands after days of camping and pedaling? As my nickname Betty Ford resurfaces in a dozen countries due to my Canadian’s livers love of international barley drinks my vocabulary to say the word beer in at least as many languages has been growing by the continent. Relaxing in the local expat bar can also have recreational benefits as well. Last week in Dali, China my fellow bicycle tourist Tim from Sweden got a pole dance lesson from a professional pole dancer.

She was kind enough to show us her newly acquired skills that she learned at the pole dancing academy. I also gave pole climbing a shot and will report that flipping upside down and then sliding down a 55mm metal pole with any amount of grace is far more challenging than it looks.

Splash!

Splash! What the???? What is going on here? Throughout my 20 months of bicycle touring I have been handed bottles of water from cars and thumbs up of support but here in the Yunnan Province of South West China things have drastically changed. Buckets of water are getting thrown at me as I pedal along.

The temperature is sticky and sweaty, and a quick bath is not a bad idea after weeks of camping. However, being blinded by copious amounts of beige water from various sources has left me with a new found respect for Ray Charles.

Ironic Camel Rides At The Water Festival

The water festival is a national holiday loved by the locals and feared by cyclists. As the sadistic saturation continues I drip dry and make my way north into the Yunnan Mountains.

Pedaling down a 21km (14mile) descent in the mtns.

As I climb high and tackle 30 km climbs, crest the top and receive from the cycling gods, a 21 km descent, a car with tinted windows pulls over, rolls the window down and points a yellow high power water rifle out the window. Armed with a water gun, the jovial man takes a shot at me, a drive by bucket bath, gangster style in the remote mountains. I am hoping he doesn’t return reloaded with more blinding pond water.

As I arrive into the hillside stoned walled village of Dali, locally known as Chinese Disneyland due to it’s popularity, the water festival is a passing memory. The temperatures have plummeted and with several 4000metres plus passes ahead on the road it is time to stock up on winter pedaling gear for the cold winter nights and predicted rain ahead.

Rub A Dub Dub In The Photos Bathtub

Rub-a-dub-dub,Three men in a tub,And how do you think they got there? The butcher, the baker,The candlestick-maker, They all jumped out of a rotten potato, Twas’ enough to make a fish stare…

While 5 cyclists head up the Nam Ou river in Northern Laos during the dry season the adventure begins not with 3 men in a tub but by 5 cyclists loading 5 bicycles with full gear and 14 passengers aboard a shallow long wooden boat. Together we all venture NW along the river through the cascading shallow current , amongst local fisherman and happy children as we head towards the starting point for the mountain road to China. After we destroyed propeller number three on the river floor rocks, trekked up the river bank on foot around the shallow rapids and then pushed the boat through the river, the adventure to China begins…..Please enjoy the photos for words alone cannot do this adventure justice.

Most mornings in the mountains of Laos begin with a captive audience of little locals

Despite the locals having a PHD in loading stuff, 5 cyclist still come up with a great plan on
how to pack 5 bicycles on to a boat

My NEW shipped for free to anywhere Be The Adventure T-shirt came in handy on the river adventure

Fishing For Dinner

Pushing a boat can tucker out a couple of cyclists faster then a mountain road

Because even the captain needs a good nap once in a while!

There Is A Big Mountain In The Way!

As five cyclists, new friends head together through the mountains, the food is scarce, the laughter is not. Three days and 300km of hills later the rolling crew of 5 spring forth, bellies full of sticky rice and rat on a stick. To the cultural heritage city of Luang Prabang we arrive like gorillas escaping from the forest looking forward to some well earned Laos beer and food that doesn’t involve noodle soup or barbequed rodent.

Tim and Emanuel, two handsome Swedish guys who would like all of you ladies to know that they are single, and team Canada, a French Canadian couple who would like you all to know that they were fully sponsored with gear and cash as they pedaled a crossed Canada last year and would like the good fortune to continue as they pedal the world. They can be contacted through their website. The Swedish hotties also have an amazing website (video blogs in English) with GPS and navigation data that could give NASA technology a run for their money, and video capabilities that Steven Spielberg would smile about.

A village school along the way proved to be a wonderful campground, and dozens of curious children provided the evening and early morning entertainment. Team Canada spent the morning involved in an outdoor cooking class with the locals as the Swedish hotties did calisthenics to tighten their rock hard abs, wrote letter to their moms, and played with the children to start the day in the mountains.

Tomorrow after I wait for the cute Swedish pair to balance their 6 digit bank accounts, the party of 5 will head for a long boat to float the Nam Ou River and will jump off at the road and pedal north into China. May the camping, laughter, outstanding blogging, photos and fun continue… “Adventure Cycling Is The New Religion/The New Rock And Roll” A quote by Tim from Sweden, enjoy the YouTube video!

Have You Heard The One About Women Drivers?

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I slam the brakes and jackknife poor Pandemic the Startled Magic Bicycle as I slosh through a dark greasy puddle and stop short in front of a lunatic of a woman driving a motorcycle as if sponsored by BMW. It seems as I make my way north for the third and final time through the mountains in Laos and into China with my new passport in hand that the women drivers have taken me on with a Mario Andretti ferociousness. They are fresh from the race track, amped on Mekong whisky (a bad joke) and ready to ride. Perhaps, it is my new speed complicating things. I have gotten a fair bit lighter this week as I sorted out my new passport and visas for China, Russia and Pakistan.

Keeping women on the road in her motorcycle repair shop

In the mail, I received a care package containing a new lighter tent, I replaced my Vaude Hogan ultralight tent because I am a loser and lost the tent poles. The tent floor was also ripped from the porous rainforest floor and the zippers were wearing out from 2 years of my peak a boo is there anyone out there continuous use. My wonderful Vaude tent home, I replaced with a Big Agnes Fly Creek tent because it is free standing, the poles fit IN the panniers/bicycle bag and the tent has more ventilation for the humid Africa climate up ahead. I have also reduced my Asian clothing collection and was robbed/lightened of my front handlebar bag. However, I am not all that attached to my belongings anymore, although, I would open up a can of ‘be the adventure woop ass’ if anyone messed with Pandemic The Magic Bicycle. However, at 5 foot nothing, weighing in at buck and change and never having been the biggest kid in the class, Pandemic ‘The Untouchable’ can and will take care of herself.

All of this, wonderfully contributes to my new lightning fast zippidy doo da day entertaining speed and complete joyful reckless abandonment of all traffic rules for the slower vehicle. I am now almost as fast as a motorcycle, and I say almost with the same “yeah right” exaggerated tone in which a criminal pleads not guilty. With my Be The Adventure panties hiked up high, in order to stay warm and brave the freezing rain of the mountains, I have decided to just allow all reason and common sense to wash away with the mud puddles and pretend that I definitely have the right of way on the road. Yeap, that’s right, I officially own the road, or at least in my own saturated by precipitation mind. Dang women drivers!

Tomorrow as the freezing rain, wind and 8 degree temperatures continue, I zig zag up into the mountains, take on the switch backed latent road and will be belting out “life is a highway”. For every wet woman needs a good theme song. And, while waving my cold hand to hundreds of rain soaked happy children, hope not to crash, therefore, saving us all one more joke about women drivers. Have you heard the one about women on wheels? The WOW (women on wheels) Wall is always growing as people find me at rettaretta@hotmail.com, Facebook, and Twitter and share ideas photos, blogs and books celebrating women on wheels.

The Bicycle Clown Spreads Much Needed Smiles Across Japan

As the earth in Japan continues to shake, power plant on fire, tsunami destruction flourishes and the death and injury toll continue to rise, I get a message from my internet boyfriend. Not someone I have been lucky enough to meet (yet), rather an internet friend and fellow long term bicycle tourist. Someone, I greatly admire. Also, the recipient of my long standing joke that the cute, single, Alvaro “Biciclown” Neil is my internet boyfriend. The message said “I climbed a hill and slept near a temple, the airport close by is annihilated, I am ok”. I was relieved to hear that my internet boyfriend and fellow cyclist was safe.

The BiciClown

Alvaro “Biciclown” Neil has been travelling the world by bicycle since 2004 and working on a project called “Miles For Smiles”. This lawyer turned clown performs physical comedy clown shows for free to children and adults around the world. He writes books, documentary films and lives on a meager budget of 5USD a day. He has vowed to not return to his home in Spain until his project is complete, for the grave yard is full of dreamers and he doesn’t want to be one of them.

The BiciClown is presently pedaling in Japan towards the region most heavily affected by the tsunami and earthquake. He is performing clown shows for free in the many devastated towns throughout the route. In Alvaro’s last blog post he states that at times it is difficult to put on the clown but he will because the people are in need.

‘Sometimes I have to play the clown when my soul is broken or when I want to be elsewhere. I think I have to do it professionally, so I forget my fears and do it…that is the mission of the clown, to be insensitive to ones own pain and shine on the smiles of others…..’

A lucky local Japanese woman wanted to see her country by bicycle and together they venture towards the devastated Hokkaido area sharing much needed smiles along the way. Catch up with the biciclown on the Website, Facebook, Twitter or become a Clown Funder and help spread smiles around the world.

Make Spoons Not War

The beauty of NE Laos lays in the Laotian people’s remarkable spirit, ingenuity, laughter and smiles for all that pass by their villages. Late in the afternoon, after pedaling up and down the mountains for about 90 kilometers, I stop, hungry again for some noodle soup. As I lift my spoon full of mysterious meat balls, I notice my spoon has been handmade, is heating up quite quickly, is a matt grey color and is very strong and light. As I lift my spoon and thoroughly enjoy my noodle soup, I ponder how such a beautiful people can endure such a sad history and persevere with such kindness for all who cross their paths. The spoon in my soup has been handmade out of scrap metal that has been harvested from the hillside from the left over bomb metal that was dropped overhead by the Americans during The Secret War (1963-1974).

The mountains roads of North Eastern Laos are full of twists and turns and noodle soup as I climb my way through the Xieng Kuouang Province. The hills climb at 20-30km stretches, crest the top and cascade downward through endless switchbacks to reach the bottom and climb again. Pandemic The Magic Bicycle is a giant fan of these high mountain roads and seems to have perked up since the rice patty flat roads of southern Laos and Cambodia. Around each sharp corner, a village full of smiling, waving, friendly people awaits dressed in traditional attire heightening the beauty of pedaling here.

This region, the most heavily bombed in Laos holds the record for the most bombs dropped on them by the Americans in history, every 8 minutes for 9 years, tones of explosives dropped from the sky, a ½ ton of bombs per person in Laos. The Secret War, was keep hidden from the media, US Congress and the outside world as thousands of people perished or hid out starving in mountain caves.

As I pedal through the many villages to reach the capital of Phonsavan, there are remarkable number of children smiling and waving without limbs, while others are waving and saying hello with a huge amount of scaring on their faces. 30 years later, unexploded cluster bombs litter the province and there are many accidents involving the bombs exploding and killing people or taking their limbs. It is estimated that 30 percent of the bombs were dropped too low to the ground and didn’t explode. Today, the bombs are disturbed while people farm for much needed food, while children play near their schools and while access roads are built. Many regions still have so many bombs that people continue to be unable to farm and remain impoverished and hungry out of fear of the bombs that have already taken many a limb or life.

As I sit holding my bomb metal spoon I guiltily eat my noodle soup and can only imagine the starvation and fear of the Laotian people during the war. Today with local initiative and some NGO support the people continue to slowly clean up the mess and turn lemons into lemonade, fashioning the bomb metal into everything from spoons, cattle water troughs, plant holders and house supports. Make Spoons Not War is a powerful thought that will stay with me as I continue through the province to reach the Nam Ou River and load Pandemic The Magic Bicycle onto a wooden barge and continue by river through the region.

Super Size Me…Getting A New Passport While Traveling

My passport is full, obese with stamps; it has eaten well over the last 20 months of travel. And like a chubby person in an airplane seat, there are so many stamps that there are stamps spreading out on top of stamps without an empty page or seat in sight. Each of the 24 pages of my passport, stuffed with a stained collage of ink marks as juicy looking as cellulite in a mini skirt.

Therefore, this week I ate enough bureaucracy to leave me with indigestion. The 3 course meal consisted of the Australian Embassy in Laos for an appetizer, their cousins the Canadian Embassy in Thailand for the main course and their friend the Canadian Government in Canada for dessert. I say thank you to the passport chefs on 2 continents and 3 countries, thank you for super sizing me and cooking me up a 48 page double sized passport. The Big Mac of passports layered with endless travel ingredients and empty pages. Ironically, my appetite for pedaling through foreign lands is far healthier than anything on the McDonald’s menu.

However, as I pedal through northern Laos and wait on my Big Mac to arrive from Canada, I sing the two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese song and change the words to my 2 all new passports, empty pages, visas, cheese etc. and dream to become fat with travel. In three weeks time, my Big Mac passport will arrive at the capital of Laos and I will backtrack from the Chinese border to retrieve my hungry travel mate. Pandemic The Magic Bicycle will patiently wait my return at the Chinese border so we can continue north through the Himalaya foothills. In the meantime, I pedal along through the hilly mountains singing and happy to someday soon be super sized with a double sized passport and grateful that I haven’t seen a real McDonald’s in over 3 months.